He switched his gaze from Batanides to Zweller, and continued. “You’ve obfuscated the truth so much, Corey, that I almost don’t know what to believe anymore. Except for this: Your exchange with the Romulans must go ahead as planned.”

“What?Why?” Batanides appeared dumbfounded. Zweller looked surprised as well.

“Marta, if the Romulans are playing straight with Corey,” Picard said, “then we’ll at least get that list of spies. Corey’s extralegal skulduggery and the loss of the Slaytonwon’t have been entirely in vain.” Picard observed Corey wince almost imperceptibly at the mention of his destroyed starship; he didn’t need Troi’s talents to notice Zweller’s obvious burden of self‑recrimination, deserved or not.

Picard looked at Batanides, who seemed to be weighing his words carefully. After a moment, she nodded and said, “I think you and I are finally on the same page, Johnny, though I have to confess to some surprise to hear you sanctioning a covert operation.”

Picard’s memory conjured images of his capture on the planet Celtris III four years ago, during a secret mission to find a Cardassian metagenic weapon; he fleetingly recalled the horrendous torments, both physical and psychological, he had endured at the hands of his inquisitor, Gul Madred.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Picard said, his throat suddenly dry.

Batanides shrugged. “Be that as it may, you left out an important detail.”

“What’s that?” Picard said, his brow wrinkling.

“I’m going with him,” she replied.

Now it was Picard’s turn to be surprised. “Actually, I was thinking that Ishould be the one to go, Marta.”

“You’re not an intelligence officer, Johnny,” she said, a sly smile crinkling the corners of her mouth. “I am. And I outrank you, so please don’t bother arguing.”

“I suppose you are the best choice to . . . render aid to Mr. Zweller should he need it,” Picard said, admitting defeat. And to keep an eye on him in case he has any other tricks up his sleeve.Picard knew that he didn’t need to say that out loud; he assumed that both Batanides and Zweller were already thinking it as their reflections regarded each other appraisingly across the polished tabletop.

Breaking the silence, Picard said, “Still, I have to point out that there’s some real danger here.” Batanides flashed him a no kidding?look of mock surprise; he ignored it and continued. “While we’re trying to neutralize the singularity, we’ll stand a greater chance of success if we can divert the Romulans’ attention elsewhere.”

“Onto the two of us,” Batanides said.

“In other words,” Zweller said acerbically, “we’re going to serve as a distraction.”

Picard ignored the comment. “You’ll be issued a shuttle so you can make your rendezvous at the appointed time.”

The captain’s combadge suddenly chirped, and Will Riker’s voice issued from it. “Captain, I think we’ve finally got some good news. Geordi has worked out the details of his plan for dealing with the singularity.”

And not a moment too soon,Picard thought. “Splendid, Number One. I’ll join you on the bridge in a moment.”

Rising from his chair, Picard took a last look at his two friends and fleetingly saw them as they had once been–rousingly ebullient and slightly rebellious cadets.

How time and politics change us all.

“It is vitally important that you keep the Romulans occupied,” he said, straightening his tunic as he prepared to exit the observation lounge. “And personally, for me . . . it’s equally as important that bothof you return from your appointment alive. We’ll deal with these othermatters . . . later.”

If thereis a ‘later’ for the three of us,Picard thought as he strode down the corridor.

The silence in the room was palpable after Picard departed. Batanides’s thoughts were awhirl as she tried to make sense of the revelations to which she had just been made privy. She looked over at Zweller, who was now slumped in his chair, refusing to meet her gaze.

He spoke first. “I’m sorry, Marta. It wasn’t my intention to have this all go south. I’d do anything to bring the crew of the Slaytonback, and Aubin was–”

“Don’t.” Her voice was firm and unyielding. “Don’t you dare bring Aubin into your–” And then it hit her. Troi’s premonition of danger at the peace conference, when she had pushed Picard to safety. The emotionamplifying chip and its contents, as described by the android. Some of the things Aubin had said and done on this mission. Before now, none of them had connected. Now, though she didn’t want to think it, the words came into her head in a flood. Aubin was Cory’s partner in sabotaging the Chiarosan peace talks.

Steeling her nerves, she began moving around the conference table toward Zweller. “He was working with you, wasn’t he?” she asked.

Zweller looked up at her, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. She was glad to see that for once in the last hour, she had been the one to surprise him.She continued: “He was part of your group. He didn’t come here to promote peace, he came here to help end Ruardh’s regime and lose the Geminus Gulf to the Romulans.”

“He was doing what was bestfor the Federation, Marta. He was following his orders.”

She began to turn, then brought her left hand up in a clenched fist. Her blow connected to Zweller’s jaw with a crack, and he went cartwheeling backward, out of his chair.

Sprawling, the commander rubbed his jaw. “Ow,” he said simply.

“Get up too soon and I’ll knock you right back on your ass, Corey.” Batanides massaged her fist a bit, and looked down at her friend. “How shouldI react? First I find out that one of my oldest friends has betrayed his ideals and is collaborating with the Romulans. And now I find out that the man I loved–who was slaughtered in the midst of a peace initiative–is just as much a traitor to everything I believe in!”

“I’m nota traitor, Marta,” he said emphatically, holding his hands up, palms outward, as if to ward off any further blows. “And neither was Aubin. We were following orders from Starfleet, orders that worked to the benefit of the Federation.”

“Oh, yes, I can see the big benefit. A starship and her crew destroyed. Countless Chiarosans dead. A famed ambassador murdered. The fleet’s flagship about to be booted out of the system, unless, of course, we go to warover a rebel prisoner who has requested asylum. Have I missedany of your benefits?

“And who exactly was it who cut your cloak‑anddagger orders, Corey? I’m a flag officer in Starfleet Intelligence! Don’t you think Iwould know about any clandestine deals with the Romulans?”

“You know as well as I do that there are branches of Starfleet that are more . . . covert than Intelligence.”

Batanides seemed unconvinced. “Shadowy government bureaus may be all the rage for your buddies, the Romulans, or some of the other warlike cultures, but they haven’t existed on Earth since the twenty‑first century.”

Zweller sighed, then stood, keeping a discreet distance from the admiral’s striking range. “What do you want to hear, Marta? That you’re right?That those in power have never seen a need to secretly bend the rules that they uphold in public? That even Starfleet Intelligence has never stepped over the line to protect the Federation from its enemies? What is it you want to hear?”

Squaring her shoulders, Batanides looked her compatriot in the eyes. She had to say the words out loud, though she feared even thinking them. For years she had heard the rumors of a shadowy group of operatives; now, she might have been in bed with them, literally and figuratively.

“Tell me there is no Section 31. Tell me that you’re a rogue agent. Tell me that Aubin was an ambassador who was just trying to settle a civil war on behalf of the Federation’s diplomatic corps.”